Gazing at a Broken Heart Old
by tobiz9
Summary: REPOSTED IN NEW STORY! Its Hermione's 7th year at Hogwarts. After hearing a disturbing conversation between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini, Hermione decides to find out what is going on with him. DMHG. Books 5, 6, and 7 disregarded.
1. Chapter 1

**Gazing at a Broken Heart**

By Tobiz9

**Chapter 1**

**Hermione**

_Only one more year left, _I think to myself happily as I follow my two best friends into the train at Platform 9¾. _It just sucks that it has to be the most important and most stressful year, with the NEWTs and all._ This is when I envy the Muggle children. I've heard that their last year of school is a piece of cake. Lucky for them.

As my friends and I walk down the corridor looking for and empty compartment, I spot Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini standing alone together in one, surprisingly not surrounded by their usually lot of Slytherin followers. Zabini has one hand on Malfoy's shoulder, and Malfoy's face is filled with worry. It looks like Zabini is trying to comfort him.

"…Just don't worry about it, mate," I hear Zabini say to his friend. "It'll be just fine, you'll see."

"How can you know that?" Malfoy retorts, his voice low and strained with worry and … is it fear? "You've seen what he's like now, Blaise. He's so stressed. I'm just scared he'll -"

"He **won't**," Zabini assures the blond quickly, and I see him give Malfoy's shoulder and soft squeeze before I duck down behind the door so that I won't be seen, but am still able to hear everything the two Slytherin boys are saying.

"He's too smart for that," Zabini continues softly. "And, anyway, he loves the woman. There's no bloody way he'll hurt her."

"He's done it before," Malfoy argues, the sadness and pain clear in his voice. "Why shouldn't he do it again?"

"He's too smart for that, mate," Zabini persists. "He knows there's people watching him … from both sides. He knows not to do anything foolish like that. There's really nothing to worry about, mate. Everything will be fine."

"I hope you're right," Malfoy says, letting out a loud sigh, sounding totally and completely defeated.

I can tell the conversation is over so I straighten up and walk away quickly, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping by the Slytherins. I find Harry and Ron assembled in a compartment with Neville and Luna, talking about their summer vacations.

"Oh, hey, Hermione," Neville exclaims when he sees me. "How was your break?" I force a smile at him, unable to take my mind off the exchange I just heard.

"It was OK," I manage to say, trying to sound happy to see them. "Harry and I were actually over at Ron's for a couple weeks, did you tell them, boys?" I ask, turning to Harry and Ron, who shake their heads.

"Not yet," Ron replies, yawning. "God, I'm bloody tired. Oh! Tell them, Hermione!"

He's referring to me becoming Head Girl, of course. In fact, the letter came while I was at his house.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Head Girl!" I announce, beaming.

"That's **great**, Hermione!" Neville cries, grinning stupidly from ear to ear. Luna nods in agreement.

"Yes, it is," she agrees, speaking for the first time since I entered the compartment. "Maybe you'll be able to do something about the nargles that are roaming free around the school. They are quite common this time of year, and very difficult to deal with."

"Oh, er, yeah, I'll see what I can do," I say quickly, then jump up again, remembering something. "Oh, I gotta go! It said in the letter that I'm to meet McGonagall to go over rules and to meet the Head Boy and things like that. I'll be back soon!"

Without waiting for an answer, I rush out of the compartment and head to the front of the train where we're to meet. I still can't stop thinking about the conversation between Malfoy and Zabini. What were they talking about? Who were they talking about? And why was Malfoy so worried? They couldn't be talking about his father, could they?

I spot McGonagall in the very first compartment, sitting alone, holding a few rolls of parchment in her hands.

"Ah, Ms. Granger, so good to see you," she greets me, smiling kindly, and motions to the seat across from her.

"It's good to see you too, Professor," I say, sitting down.

"Well, it looks like the new Head Boy is late. Not too good a start for the new school year," McGonagall sighs, shaking her head.

"Who **is **the Head Boy, Professor?" I ask, politely.

"Oh, you'll see in a moment," she replies vaguely, and then, as if on cue, the door slides open and Draco Malfoy steps into the compartment.

"Ah Mr. Malfoy, how nice of you to join us," McGonagall exclaims and Malfoy only scowls in response. "Why don't you take a seat, please?"

Malfoy doesn't reply, he just stays standing, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, and a bored look on his face. None of the worry or fear I'd seen before shows at all now.

"Very well," McGonagall murmurs, looking away from him. She goes on to talk about all the rules and what our responsibilities as Head Boy and Girl are.

Then, she drops the bomb.

"And, of course, you two will be sharing a dorm so -"

"WHAT?!" Malfoy and I both exclaim at the same time. He turns and glares at me and I, in return, glare back.

"Well, of course," McGonagall replies, confused by our reaction. "It is a known fact that the Head Boy and Girl always live together. I thought you two would have most definitely known that." We both shake our head, and she continues: "Well, you will be. You'll be sleeping in two different rooms, of course, but you will have the same common room, the same bathroom, and you'll even have your own kitchen, one of the perks of being Heads."

"You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Malfoy mutters under his breath, but McGonagall and I both hear him.

"Language, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall snaps, shaking her head in disappointment. "You don't want me to have to take off points this early in the year, do you?" Malfoy only glares at her and doesn't say a word. "Now, as I was saying," McGonagall continues, "your common room is located behind the painting of the centaur on the third floor. The password is 'bean sprouts'. After the Sorting ceremony, you two are to go up there and get all settled in, and I expect you to work out your differences. I will not have the Heads setting a bad example to the rest of the students. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor," I say, and Malfoy merely nods.

"Good," McGonagall sighs, standing up. "Well, that is all. You may go. Have a pleasant trip."

"You too, Professor," I reply, then follow Malfoy out into the corridor. He's walking quickly away and I have to run to catch up with him.

"Malfoy!" I call after him and he stops and turns around, running a hand through his blond hair.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asks in a bored voice. His face is perfectly emotionless, but his eyes look tired, and I think I see some worry in them again.

"I just … well, since we'll be living together I … I just thought we should at least **try **to get along," I stutter, hearing how stupid it sounds just after it escapes my mouth.

"Whatever, Granger," Malfoy mutters, sighing. And with that, he walks away and goes into his compartment without another word.

I stand there for a minute, absolutely confused. Something is definitely up with Malfoy. He hasn't insulted me once! Something **has **to be going on with him. What, though? Well, now that we live together, I make a vow that I will find out exactly what.

Finally snapping out of it, I go to walk to my compartment. I pass the one Malfoy entered and glance in quickly. The usual lot are there: Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and, of course, Malfoy. He and Zabini are sitting in a corner, away from the rest of the group, talking softly between them. Malfoy has the usual bored look on his face, a smirk never far from his lips, but I still see the worry in his eyes. I can't hear what the two are saying, though, so I continue to my compartment.

I spend the rest of the train ride talking to my friends and sleeping a bit, and always, **always**, thinking about Malfoy.

* * *

Thanks for reading! I'm going to wait to update until I have at least 10 reviews! So review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Hermione**

Throughout the whole ceremony and part of the feast, I can't keep my eyes off Draco Malfoy. I can't stop watching him, observing his every move, the way he interacts with people, the way he plays with his food absentmindedly, taking a bite every now and then. He's sitting at the Slytherin table between Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, his usual smirk still gone. Pansy is holding his hand and playing with his hair while Malfoy silently picks at his food, seemingly oblivious to everyone around him.

Then Zabini, noticing how his friend is acting, taps Malfoy's arm gently, snapping the blond out of his trance-like state. The darker boy gives Malfoy a worried look before starting a new conversation with him and Theodore Nott, who is sitting across from them, stuck between Crabbe and Goyle. I see Zabini say something which makes everyone laugh, but I can tell the amusement never reaches Malfoy's eyes.

"Hermione!" a voice yells suddenly in my ear, making me jump and turn away from the Slytherin table, to face an annoyed Ron and a confused looking Harry.

"What the bloody hell is going on with you?" Ron demands, glaring at me. "I've said your name like five bloody times. You've been in a weird mood since the train."

"Yeah and why were you staring at the Slytherin table?" Harry adds, sending a nasty look in Malfoy's direction.

"Oh, it's nothing, I was just daydreaming," I reply coolly, taking a bite from my pumpkin pie.

"Hermione," Harry begins, unconvinced.

"No, really, Harry," I insist. "It's nothing."

The rest of the feast I spend talking to my friends, eating, laughing, and debating about what kinds of crazy experiences this school year will hold. And, of course, I can't help glancing over at Malfoy every few minutes. I need to find out what's going on with him, and, after the feast, when we go to the Head dorms, I plan to do some investigating.

--

"Malfoy, what's going on?" I ask as the two of us sit in silence in the Head common room. Malfoy hasn't said a word to me since we were on the train, and he's barely even looked at me once. We've been in the common room, alone together, for about twenty minutes now, and still, no word.

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy mutters finally, looking up at me from the fireplace, which he's been gazing at intently for a while now.

"I mean … you've been … different. You seem kind of … worried, I guess … sad. You've been really quiet. And you haven't insulted me once."

"And you're complaining?" Malfoy laughs, staring at me curiously.

"I'm not complaining," I persist. "It's just … not like you. You're acting weird. I want to know what's going on."

There's a short silence in which Malfoy looks away from me again at his hands, and I see his jaw clench as he grits his teeth uncomfortably.

"Why do you even care?" he challenges after a minute, still keeping his eyes focused on his hands.

"I don't …" I begin, then pause to think about what I'm going to say. "I mean, we're going to be living together for a whole year. We should really try to get along … try to get to know each other. And I think I have a right to know if there's something you're worried about, because you're making me worry too. So it's not just affecting you."

"Don't worry, Granger," Malfoy snarls, his face growing hard, like he's closing himself off from me. "There's nothing you should worry about."

And with that, he stands up and starts walking away, heading for his room.

"Malfoy!" I call, jumping up as well to go after him.

"Just leave me alone, Mudblood," Malfoy snaps, before slamming the door shut.

I stand there for a while, staring at Malfoy's closed door in shock. I can't believe how quickly he changed and returned to his normal self. Sighing, I sit back down and look into the fireplace, the same way Malfoy had just a few minutes ago.

Then, there's a loud knock on the portrait door. When there's no sign from Malfoy's room that he's going to get it, I get up and head to the door, praying it's Harry or Ron and not one of Malfoy's disgusting friends.

Unfortunately for me, though, I open the door to find Blaise Zabini standing there, a smirk quickly forming on his face when he sees me.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he sneers, reminding me so much of Malfoy, but just a tanned, black haired version of the pale blond. "Looking good, Mudblood, looking good," he adds, looking me up and down.

Still smirking, he pushes his way past me into the common room, looking around for his friend.

"So where is the Head Boy, Mudblood?" he asks, turning back to me, his green eyes twinkling with laughter. I roll my eyes, motioning to Malfoy's closed door.

"He's a pain in the arse, you know that?" I snap as Zabini turns to head to Malfoy's room.

"You're telling me?" he laughs, coming so close to me, I can feel his breath hitting me face. "You haven't seen anything yet, trust me. He's way more complicated than he lets on. You'll see, you'll grow to like him, then he'll bloody turn on you, just like that." He snaps his fingers in my face, making me jump and step back. "And he's bloody good at it."

"Then why are you friends with him?" I retort. "If he's so horrible like that?"

"He's not like that with me," Zabini explains, and I notice that the humor is now completely gone from his eyes. He's totally serious. "I mean, he used to be. But then he learned to trust me. He tells me everything now."

"Blaise, what the bloody hell are you doing?" a voice growls suddenly, and Zabini and I look over to see Malfoy standing outside his open door, his face contorted in rage, hurt, and … fear, I think.

"It's alright, mate," Zabini says quickly, giving me a look that clearly says, 'I'll deal with this.' Then he turns away from me again and goes over to Malfoy, hauling the blond back into his room. "Come on, we gotta talk," I hear him say as the door closes behind the two Slytherins.

I go back to the couch and sit down, groaning in frustration. I try to tell myself that it's only the first day, that I still have plenty of time to figure out what's going on with him, but it doesn't help much. I get up and go to Malfoy's door, pressing my ear against it to see if I can hear anything. Nothing.

Trying not to think about the Slytherins, I walk out of the dorm and head to the Gryffindor common room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Hermione**

The week goes by pretty fast, and before I know it, it's Friday. It's great seeing everyone again. Some people, like Neville, have changed drastically over break. He seems to have gotten **a lot **more confidence. He's got a girlfriend now. That's what he says at least. Most of us just can't believe he's got a partner and the rest of us don't. I mean, not to be mean, but it's Neville.

Our classes have been fairly easy, with only two essays due so far, but that's just because they're giving us this week to get settled in and all. Next week we'll be back to work, I'm sure, or back to "hell", as Ron calls it.

We're having dinner in the Great Hall now, debating what to do over the weekend, and I can't help but notice that Malfoy isn't at the Slytherin table. Zabini is there, surprisingly, but he doesn't seem to be his usual joking self. In fact, he seems to be quite worried, as he keeps glancing at the entrance as if he's waiting for someone, Malfoy probably, to walk in.

Malfoy and I haven't spoken since our last, disastrous conversation on the first day back, but he hasn't insulted me or my friends once either. He seems to mostly avoid coming back to the Head dorms, returning only to sleep. When we don't have classes, I mostly see him out by the lake with Zabini, or by the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. He seems to be spending all his time with Zabini, as if the darker boy takes a huge weight off the blond's shoulders.

Suddenly, I just don't feel hungry anymore, and I feel claustrophobic with so many people around.

"I'm just going to go to the library," I announce, standing up. "I should probably get some studying done."

"Studying?" Ron exclaims, in disbelief. "Hermione, it's only the first week! We barely have any homework yet!"

But I just shake my head at him and walk off.

I don't know why, but I suddenly don't feel like going to library. I feel like looking for Draco Malfoy.

As I stand outside the Great Hall, trying to decide where to go, I hear someone walk up behind me, and I spin around, coming face to face with none other than Blaise Zabini. He has his hands shoved into his pockets, and his head is bent so that his longish black hair falls into his eyes quite attractively.

I shake my head, getting rid of the last thought, and focus my mind on glaring at the Slytherin. It must not have come off too threatening, because he merely chuckles, and moves to lean against the wall, looking me over.

"What do you want?" I growl, rolling my eyes at the boy. Zabini shrugs and looks down at his feet, and I can tell he's still worried about something, I can see it in his eyes.

"I know you noticed that Draco wasn't at dinner," he stated frankly after a moment. "I've seen you looking at him every meal. I figured you went to look for him."

"Why would I want to look for him?" I snap, even though he's completely right. "I don't give a shit about him. He's such an evil, slimy, annoying git!"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, love," Zabini laughs, walking away.

"Where are you going?" I call after him before I can stop myself. He stops walking and turns around, smirking slightly.

"Draco's in trouble," he says simply, coming back towards me. "Unfortunately, he's too bloody stubborn to ask for my help, and I know there's nothing I can do about it anyway, so where am I going? I'm going out to the lake to have a drink," he takes out a small flask from his pocket and waves it in my face, "and I'm going to wait there, so that I can be there for him when he comes back."

"Where is he?" I ask, frowning at Zabini's words. Zabini shrugs, tucking his flask back in his pocket. "You're a good friend, you know?" I blurt out before I can stop and think about what I'm saying. "Even if he's a bloody git, he's lucky to have a friend like you." Zabini grins, running a hand through his hair.

"You wanna come with me?" he invites, holding out a hand to me.

"I … uh … I don't think that's such a good idea," I decide after a moment of uncertainty. Zabini rolls his eyes, his grin growing wider.

"What does it matter? What else have you got to do?"

I hesitate, then sigh, nodding, and take the offered hand.

"You're the least Slytherin-like Slytherin I know," I laugh as we walk out of the castle. "Why are you doing this?"

"What?" Zabini asks innocently.

"This," I repeat, holding up our linked hands. "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You're a Slytherin, I'm a Gryffindor. We're supposed to be enemies, but you're asking me to go have a drink with you by the lake. Why?"

He sighs and doesn't reply for a long time. When we get to the lake, I assume he just won't say anything, but then he shrugs, saying:

"I'm worried about Draco. I guess I just want some company. And, to be honest, I think the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor rivalry is utterly ridiculous. I mean, why can't we all just get along?" he laughs, sitting down in the grass by the lake. I grin, sitting down next to him.

"You know, I've always kind of agreed with that," I say softly. "But Harry and Ron have always been so against Slytherin, and Malfoy was such a git."

"Was?" Zabini raises his eyebrows in disbelief, taking out his flask.

"Well, he's different this year," I admit. "He's … well … he doesn't insult me at all anymore, and he doesn't insult my friends. I haven't even seen him picking on the first years at all. It's like he's a completely different guy. I think something must've happened to him over the summer."

I finally look up at Zabini once I finish speaking. He's sitting there looking uncomfortable and playing with the cap of his flask, not looking at me.

"You know what happened," I say, leaning forward and catching his eye. He holds my gaze for a while and opens his mouth like he's going to say something, then clamps it shut again, looking away and taking a long drink from his flask.

"I can't tell you," he mutters finally, staring at his feet. "I promised Draco I wouldn't tell anyone."

"You really are about him, don't you?" I whisper, observing his face for any sign of emotion. I half expect him to close off and make his face a mask like Malfoy does, but he doesn't. He looks sad, and very, very worried.

"He's my best friend," he says simply. "We've been best friends for years. I know him better than anyone. He's always been there for me, and now he needs me to be there for him. He's ... he's a good guy … once you look past all the pureblood, Malfoy shit. He's just … he's had a tough life. I don't think people give him enough credit for how much he's gone through. They just don't understand -"

"Blaise?" a weak voice says softly from behind us. Jumping, Blaise and I turn around to see a very drained looking Malfoy standing there. I frown slightly as I look him over. He has a black eye and his bottom lip is cut and bleeding. His expensive, normally neat and perfect robes are now all filthy and wrinkled, and he's holding his right arm close to his chest as if he's afraid to move it. As he takes a few steps closer to us, I can tell he's limping. Surprisingly, he doesn't look upset that I'm here. He looks too exhausted to be upset.

Finally snapping out of his shock, Blaise jumps to his feet and rushes over to Malfoy, wrapping his left arm over his shoulders and leading the blond gently to where I'm sitting. Malfoy winces a little as Blaise carefully set him down, refusing to look at me.

"He's here?" Blaise asks his friend quietly, and Malfoy only manages to nod weakly before collapsing into the grass, unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**Hermione**

"Who's here?" I question, eyeing the unconscious Draco Malfoy in the grass, and Blaise Zabini, who is hovering over the blond. Blaise merely shakes his head at me, and starts lifting Malfoy up gently.

"We have to get him into the castle," he states simply, disregarding me completely.

"Is he going to be ok?" I ask softly, a little bothered that he avoided my question so easily, and unable to keep my eyes off the Slytherin boy I've hated for all these years. And yet, now, I don't hate him anymore; instead, for some reason, I'm finding myself growing very concerned for him. And I really wish that Blaise had answered my question about who did this, because I am absolutely furious with whoever it was.

"I think he'll be fine," Blaise says, sighing loudly. He appears to be thinking pretty hard about something.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm just trying to decide where to take him," he replies, glancing quickly at the castle.

"Oh, I don't know. How about the Hospital Wing?" I suggest sarcastically, as if it were obvious, which it should be. But Blaise shakes his head.

"We can't take him there."

"And why not?" I press, surprised by his blunt statement, which really doesn't make any sense to me.

"We just can't, ok?" Blaise snaps, throwing me an angry look, after which he glances at his feet, then back at me, apologetically. "Look, I'm sorry, but we can't take him there. We just," he pauses as a thought hits him, "we have to take him to the Room of Requirement."

"The Room of Requirement?" I repeat, bewildered. "Why?"

"No one goes there," Blaise responds, beaming as if he's just proved he's a genius or something. "And we can ask for a room to heal him in."

It's actually not a bad idea.

"Ok … But I don't get your issue with the Hospital Wing?" I try again, but he just shakes his head, hauling Malfoy over his shoulders, grunting with the effort. Ignoring my puzzled looks, he nods towards the castle and says:

"Please, Hermione, we need your help. I need you to go ahead of us and make sure the coast is clear."

"But…" I try to protest again, but he cuts me off.

"Please, he needs our help," he says, referring to the blond boy on his shoulders.

Sighing, I nod reluctantly, and we go off into the castle, me walking ahead of the Slytherins I had once loathed, keeping my eyes up to make sure there's no one around.

Our journey to our destination goes relatively smoothly, with us only running into someone, a Ravenclaw girl I don't know, once. And, thankfully, Blaise has enough time to duck quickly behind a statue as she walks by, oblivious to the two boys hiding just a few feet away from her.

We finally get to where the Room of Requirement ought to be, and Blaise paces in front of the wall three times, Malfoy still draped over his shoulders, and he seems to be focusing hard on what it is we need. For a moment, nothing happens, and Blaise curses softly as though he's given up. But then the door appears on the wall, and Blaise sighs with relief, nodding at me to open it, since his hands are full.

Obediently, I open the door and we walk into a room full of all different sorts of potions and books about healing spells and such. There is a white hospital bed on the side of the room, with metal bars on the sides to keep the person from falling out, and Blaise heads for it immediately, gently laying Malfoy down and examining him carefully.

I notice now that Malfoy also has a deep gash on the side of his head, above his left ear, and it's bleeding quite a lot, staining the normally white blond hair an ugly brownish red color.

Blaise takes a deep breath, then pulls open Malfoy's shirt, and I see him close his eyes angrily at what he sees. Hesitantly, I look also, and see five dark, painful looking bruises adorning Malfoy's chest and stomach.

Pulling Malfoy's shirt off completely, Blaise carefully rolls the blond over onto his stomach, so that he can inspect his back. What we see makes me almost want to throw up, and I am forced to look away. Covering Malfoy's back are long red lines, where I'm guessing he'd been whipped. The lashes are mostly just welted a little, with only a few that had actually cut into the skin, but they are not deep, so I'm guessing they won't leave scars. But still, it's horrible, and I'm surprised to find tears in my eyes, tears for Malfoy. What's wrong with me?

"It's his father, isn't it?" I murmur softly, breaking the sad silence.

Blaise doesn't respond, which doesn't surprise me. He just runs a hand through his dark hair, turns Malfoy back around, and goes over to the shelves, scanning the books and potions. While he's doing that, I find myself going to sit on the bed next to Malfoy, staring at his face. Now that I'm closer, I see that, in addition to his black left eye and cut lip, he also has a dark bruise over his right cheekbone, reaching down a little over his jaw, and a pretty deep cut over his left eyebrow. But despite all that, I can't help but notice how peaceful he looks at the moment, when he's sleeping. I watch silently as his strong, muscular chest rises and falls as he breathes in and out. He surprisingly has a very nice body, and he could be really good looking if he were calm like this all the time. I'll probably never see him like this again, so I figure I should appreciate it while it lasts.

Just then though, Blaise comes back over with a potion, and he points his wand at Malfoy and says, "Rennervate!"

"Why are you doing that?" I snap at Blaise, glaring. "He needs his rest, he's hurting!"

"I need to get him to drink this, and to tell me where else is hurting," Blaise hisses in return, angrily. I sigh, shaking my head, and look back at Malfoy. His grey eyes flutter open, and he only has a brief moment to stare up at Blaise and me, before his shuts his eyes tightly again, letting out a soft groan of pain. Blaise puts the potion down and gently slides his arms under Malfoy's body, hoisting the blond up so he's leaning against the pillows.

"Draco, look at me," Blaise orders, squeezing Malfoy's shoulder, forcing the blond to open his eyes reluctantly. His once silver, now dull grey, eyes swim with pain as he looks at Blaise, who smiles sadly, then continues: "I need you to drink this," he says, holding up the potion. "It'll close all your cuts and stop the bleeding, even internally, if there is any."

Malfoy nods, and takes the potion with his left hand, his right arm still held tightly to his chest. He puts the potion to his lips, tilts his head back and swallows, making a face at the horrible taste. Slowly, his cuts begin to heal, and all that's left on his face is a small scar over his left eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you look closely.

"Good," Blaise whispers, pleased with the outcome. Next, he holds up another potion. "Unfortunately, there isn't anything to make bruises disappear completely, but this will make them fade faster." And Malfoy drinks that one down also, once more making a face at the taste.

"Now … er … now's the hard part," Blaise says softly, bringing over a book. "I've found a spell that will sort of realign broken bones … or something like that … but it won't completely … er … fuse them together exactly, so you'll still need to have a bandage, and a sling. It's your arm that's broken, yeah?"

Malfoy nods, looking down.

"Yeah … and a couple of ribs, I think," he replies quietly, looking over at me. I smile at him slightly, trying to look comforting, but I think it just comes out looking like I feel sorry for him, because he turns away, looking a little angry.

"Er, ok," Blaise mutters, looking in the book. "It says this will hurt, 'cause the bones have to move to realign themselves. You ready?"

Malfoy nods, taking a deep breath. He holds out his arm, wincing when he moves it. Blaise points his wand at Malfoy's arm and utters a spell I don't recognize. The blond lets out a small cry of pain, shutting his eyes tightly, as the bones in his arm move back together.

When it's all done, Malfoy lets out a sigh of relief and opens his eyes, breathing heavily. After looking at the book again, Blaise mutters a couple more spells, leaving Malfoy's arm bandaged up and in sling against his chest.

"Good?" Blaise asks, nodding at the bandages.

"Yeah, thanks," Malfoy says, wincing as he shifts his position a little. "But my ribs still really hurt."

"Yeah, I'm sure they do," Blaise sighs, flipping through the book again.

Malfoy watches his friend silently, running his left hand through his hair, wrinkling his nose when he sees the blood come off onto it.

"Here, let me help you," I offer. I take out my want and point it at Malfoy's hair, saying, "Scourgify!" Malfoy's hair is immediately cleaned from any trace of the blood, and returns back to its normal white blond.

"Thanks," Malfoy mutters softly, smiling at me a little.

"No problem," I reply, grinning back at him.

"Ok, I got it," Blaise says at last, taking out his wand. "I think this is going to hurt more than the one before. You ready?" he asks Malfoy.

Malfoy takes a deep breath and nods, and before I can think about what I'm doing, I take his good hand in mine, and grip it reassuringly. He looks at me, surprised, but doesn't pull away. Then a small smile forms on his lips and he turns back to Blaise, nodding once more. I also look at Blaise and see him grinning at our linked hands. But his grin quickly fades as he points his wand at Malfoy's chest, saying another spell.

Malfoy yells out in pain again and his hand tightens painfully around mine, making me want to pull away, but I manage to refrain from doing that. After a moment, it's over, and Malfoy relaxes into his pillows, loosening his hold on my hand, but not letting go completely. As Blaise reads from the book once more, Malfoy looks at me again, and I notice for the second time in just a few minutes that his eyes are now a dull grey color, when they used to be a brilliant, almost scary, silver. The color of his eyes was the only thing I'd ever liked about him, even when I had hated him with such passion, because they were undeniably amazing. But now they've lost the shine they used to have, and I surprise myself by thinking that I would do anything to get it back. I don't know why I'm suddenly having all these peculiar feelings for Malfoy, of all people, but I am, and for some reason, it feels right.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey! ok so i'm going to try to post chapters more often than i've been doing so in the past. and just so you know, this chapter is from draco's POV. in case you hadn't noticed, the name at the beginning of each chapter is the name of whose POV the chapter is in. this is the first chapter that isnt from hermione's POV. ENJOY!

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**Draco**

As Granger and I separate from Blaise and walk slowly back to our common room, I can't help but think how truly fucked up this entire situation is. I can't believe that **Granger**, the Mudblood, of all people, was the one to see me as weak as I just was, besides Blaise of course.

I roll my eyes at that last thought, because even I am unable to deny that certain moment in the Room of Requirement, the one where we were holding hands and smiling at each other. For some reason, it didn't feel wrong, like it should have. In fact, it felt completely normal, like that's how it's supposed to be.

_No way, _an angry voice growls in my head. _There's no way that you, a Pureblood wizard, are supposed to be with such scum as Mudblood Hermione Granger._

_That's your father talking, _another voice argues. _You are NOT like him._

I glance over at the girl walking beside me, discretely looking her over. She's really not that bad looking. Over the past two or three years, she's tamed that wild mane of hers, and now it flows over her shoulders in soft, almost sexy, curls. Her face is actually quite pretty, when she's not making that bossy, know-it-all look that she's perfected over the years. And her eyes, I must confess, are gorgeous. They are light brown, with a green hint to them, and when she looks at you, it almost feels like you can sink right into them. Her body is thin, but curvy, and she's about a head and a half shorter than me, the perfect height for a girl, in my opinion.

I suddenly pull my gaze away, my eyes going wide at the realization of what I was just doing. I was checking her out! Granger, the **Mudblood**!

_Disgusting, simply disgusting._

We finally reach the Head common room, and I mutter the password, quickly rushing in once the portrait door swings open. Without a word to Granger, I stalk off to my room, trying desperately to ignore the dull pain still radiating through my body.

---

**RING RING!!**

I groan angrily at my alarm, shutting it off quickly and rolling over in bed, planning to go back to sleep. It's Monday, and I know I should go to class, but I just don't feel up to it. My body still aches a bit from Friday night, and my arm is still in a sling, and I'm really not in the mood for the stares and questions I'll be getting from other students and teachers about it.

And I really don't want to face Granger. I've managed to avoid her successfully since Friday night, and I know I won't be able to keep it up forever, but I want to make it last as long as possible, so that maybe she'll somehow forget about it and move on. I'm not daft; I know it's very unlikely that she **will **forget, but it doesn't hurt to hope, right?

With that last thought, I turn over again, trying to find a comfortable position without hurting my ribs or my arms, and I fall back into an uneasy sleep.

---

I wake up a few hours later, at 11:42, to be exact, and decide reluctantly to finally get up. I've missed two of my classes by now, Potions and Herbology, and, although I have two more classes left, I still don't feel up to it, so I get dressed, and head down to the lake. The lake is my favorite place in all of Hogwarts. It's always so peaceful and quiet, and Merlin knows I need a little peace and quiet every so often. I go there when things aren't working out the way I want them to, which is actually quite often, and I go there when I need to think. And I go there when I just need to be alone.

Breathing in the fresh air, I sit down in the grass on the side of the lake, sighing contently at how good the feeling is. This is pretty much the only place where I feel totally free, like nothing can bother or hurt me.

After a few minutes of just sitting there, I lay down, wincing slightly as my ribs are jolted painfully. The pain, however, fades quickly, and I am able to stare up at the tops of the trees and at the clouds moving in the sky, and it's all so peaceful.

And then, it has to be ruined.

"I knew I would find you here, mate," the familiar voice of Blaise laughs as he stalks over, sitting down beside me.

"Go away, Blaise," I order rudely, closing my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asks, sounding confused.

"You know I come here when I want to be alone," I snap, taking a deep breath to try to calm myself. "And I want to be alone. So just … go away."

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Blaise grunts, and I hear him shifting beside me.

I don't answer for a while. I just continue to lay there, eyes closed, taking in the fresh air. Usually, I don't mind Blaise's company. He's a great friend, the best one I could ask for, and he's helped me get through a lot of shit. But right now, I really just want to be alone. I sort of feel bad though, about the way I'm talking to him.

"You know what," I say finally, in response to his earlier question.

I sit up, opening my eyes, and glance at my friend. He looks worried. I hate it when he looks worried. Blaise is always such a positive person, so when I see him like this, worried or sad or angry, then I know the situation must be real bad. Of course, I already know it's bad, but Blaise's face just confirms it.

"Please, Blaise," I mutter, sighing softly. "I just want to be left alone."

Blaise stares at me hard for a moment, trying to get me to change my mind, but then he gives up, looking away and nodding.

"Ok," he says gently, standing up. "But if you need me…"

He doesn't need to finish his sentence.

"I know," I reply quietly, gazing out at the lake. "I'll let you know if I do."

He just stands there for a bit, watching me. Then he says:

"I just don't want you turning all bloody depressed and shit. I can just see you going in that direction, and, honestly, it fucking scares me. I know it might sound a bit daft, but you're may best mate, and I'd hate that to happen to you."

I don't say anything for a long time. Quite honestly, I have no idea what to say to that. It's not like I'm turning depressed, and I think he bloody well knows that, I'm just going through some shit right now. And what's he got to be scared about? He's just the friend. He's not the one who's in deep bloody shit.

After I say nothing for a while, Blaise sighs and walks away, leaving me alone once more. But now it's ruined. Now the lake is no longer peaceful and quiet. Now Blaise's words ring over and over through my head, and I get up and head back to the castle.

---

I finally rejoin my classmates in the last class of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is taught by Professor Lupin, who decided to return for some reason. I walk in a couple minutes late and sit down by Blaise, sending a nasty sneer in the Golden Trio's direction because of their stares. I surprise myself at how horrid I can still act, seeing as my heart isn't really in it at the moment. Blaise tries to smile brightly at me, but I can tell he's quite put out.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to him, patting him on the back with my good arm. "I was just upset, that's all."

"I know," he mutters back, grinning slightly. "Don't beat yourself up over it, mate. It's ok."

I grin back at him, then quickly wipe any trace of emotion off of my face as I turn to the professor. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Granger still looking at me, and I turn to her, raising my eyebrows at her questioningly. She blushes, embarrassed, and promptly glances away, scribbling something down on her parchment. I smirk viciously, but then I follow her lead, and take notes.

After class, though, I get the surprise of my life, because as I am walking out the door, a hand grabs my good arm and pulls me quickly into a corner, and when I spin around, I see it's none other than Hermione bloody Granger.

"What the fuck do **you** want, Granger? And who gave you permission to touch me?" I snap at her, glaring menacingly.

"We need to talk, Malfoy," she says, seemingly unfazed by my glare. "Meet me at the lake at 10 pm."

"Why would I want to meet with **you**?" I growl, leering at her mockingly. "In case you hadn't noticed, Purebloods and Mudbloods don't exactly get on."

"I had noticed, Malfoy," she replies simply, ignoring my 'Mudblood' comment. "And I hate to do this, but I really need to talk to you, and if you don't come … I'll tell everyone about what happened Friday night."

I suddenly feel the little color that's left drain from my face, but I cover it up swiftly, saying:

"You have no bloody idea what happened Friday night. What can you possibly tell people?"

"I know enough," Granger insists coolly. "Just be there."

And with that, she walks away.

I don't know what she knows, or if she even knows anything besides what I know she's seen, but I can't risk her telling people about it. I'll just have to go.

I can't believe a bloody Mudblood's blackmailing me.

_That's your father talking._


	6. Chapter 6

Hey! so i think this is my longest chapter yet! sorry about the last chapter, it was just kind of a filler, but in this one, something actually happens, so ENJOY! and, of course, REVIEW! cause i was quite put out by the lack of reviews for my previous chapter. i only got 4 in that one, while the one before i got 12, so i'm sure you can imagine my disappointment. anyway that's all - on with the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Hermione**

The Lake – 10:06 pm

_Merlin, where is he? _I think angrily, looking around, and still seeing no one.

After a minute though, I spot a lone figure with distinctly white blond hair walking in my direction, and I let out a sigh of relief.

Honestly, I feel pretty bad that I essentially blackmailed him into coming here, especially since it was really an empty threat. I don't really know anything of what happened Friday night, just that he turned up seriously injured. I don't even know who did it. I suspect his father, of course, but I obviously don't know for certain. But blackmail was the only way I could get him here, and I really want to talk to him about what happened. I can't stop thinking about it, and I need some answers. Blaise refuses to talk about it, so I figured I'd have to go straight to Malfoy.

I groan to myself as I think about Blaise. We were partnered up for potions … for the entire school year. Snape is trying out something new, and has decided to partner each Gryffindor with a Slytherin, and I'm with Blaise. I have to admit, Blaise can be quite sweet when he wants to, but then again he can also be a total git, and that's what I absolutely hate about him, that he can change so easily.

Malfoy finally reaches me, hands stuffed into his pockets, the usual – but not quite so usual this year – sneer plastered on his face.

"Can we get this over with? I don't quite fancy being out in the cold for very long," he drawls in a bored tone. I nod, motioning to the ground near the lake.

"Please, sit down," I say, offering him a feeble smile. He simply smirks at that, but sits down reluctantly, letting out a small sigh. I sit down beside him, suddenly feeling very nervous about what to say.

"I don't have all the time in the world, you know," Malfoy grumbles, looking out at the lake, his face a mask.

"I want to know," I whisper after a moment, and I figure that he'll understand. He does.

Malfoy chuckles softly and shakes his head, standing up.

"You know, I had a feeling it was an empty threat. I just never thought Miss Goody-Goody would ever do something like that. Guess I was terribly mistaken."

With that, he starts walking away, but I yell out his name and run after him, forcing him to stop.

"Malfoy … Draco, please," I say quietly, looking him straight in the eye. "I'm worried about you."

It comes out before I even think of saying it.

"Why?" he demands, his face a perfect mask, but his eyes are hard.

"I don't know," I admit, smiling weakly. "You've always been such a git to me. But not this year, this year you're different. I don't know why, but you are. And I can't stop thinking about that night. I can't stop wondering what happened. I can't stop making up my own assumptions because neither you nor Blaise are telling me anything. It's driving me crazy, Draco!"

"Since when do you call me 'Draco'?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I don't know," I mutter, shrugging. "Since I stopped thinking of you as 'Malfoy'. And I don't know why I stopped thinking of you as Malfoy."

"Well, that's very interesting," Draco drawls. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to tell you what happened that night." And he pushes past me and starts making his way back to the castle again.

"It's your father, isn't it?" I blurt out before I can stop myself. I seem to be doing that quiet often lately. Blurting. Around Blaise and Draco, at least.

That makes Draco stop in his tracks and spin around, stalking back to me, looking very angry.

"What the bloody hell would make you think that?" he demands, getting right up in my face, his eyes intense and nostrils flaring.

"Because he's a bloody world class git, even worse than you, and … er…" I stutter, looking at my feet.

"And what?" Draco presses, lifting my chin up with his fingers.

"And I overheard some of your conversation with Blaise on the train," I mutter, suddenly feeling a little bit scared of his reaction.

"You mean you eavesdropped," Draco snarls, letting go of my chin angrily and taking a step back. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Mind your own goddamn business." He turns to go again, but I grab his good arm, pulling him back.

"Draco, wait, please. I want to help," I beg softly, looking him straight in the eye. He stares back steadily for a moment, then sighs, running a hand through his hair.

"Why?" he demands harshly, his lip curling in disgust. "Why do _you _– a filthy little Mudblood – want to help _me_? As you've said, I've always been such a git to you, not to mention that I'm a Malfoy. We're natural born enemies. Why would you want to help me after all of that?"

"I don't know," I reply, sighing. "I really don't. Yes, you're right, you're a Malfoy and I'm a … a Mudblood, but so what? Quite honestly, I've always thought the whole blood purity thing is rather ridiculous. I mean, Voldemort is a Halfblood, and you all still bow down to him."

"Don't talk about him," Draco snaps warningly, glaring at me with pure anger. I am momentarily a bit frightened by his anger; he looks really scary. But then my fear disappears as I realize what he just said. He doesn't want to talk about Voldemort. He doesn't even actually support Voldemort, does he?

"You don't want to be a Death Eater, do you?" I whisper, staring at him as if I've just discovered that the world is, in reality, flat. Draco Malfoy, son of the evil Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's most prominent follower, does not want to follow in his father's footsteps. He does not want to be a Death Eater.

"Stop it," Draco hisses, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Stop jumping to conclusions. You don't know anything about me. I'll ask you one more time, _stay out of this._" And he spins on his heal quickly and stalks off. For a moment I actually let him leave, not sure what else there is for me to say.

Then I figure it out.

"Draco, wait!" I call, running to catch up with him. He visibly sighs, turning around and rolling his eyes in exasperation.

"What now?" he growls, though he doesn't sound angry, he sounds tired.

"Look, you don't have to tell me what happened Friday night," I begin slowly, and he raises his eyebrows questioningly, a sign for me to continue. "You don't have to ever tell me if you don't want to. I just … I want you to know that I see that you're not the git you always pretend to be. I can see that it's a cover to … to protect the 'real' you. And only Blaise gets to see the 'real' you. He's the only one you trust, and I think I can understand that. But … I want you to know that I'm here too, and even though you have your doubts about me, which is also understandable, I _do _actually want to help. I just want you to know that. And if you ever need to talk, I'm here, if you need an opinion besides Blaise's."

There is complete silence for a couple minutes, as Draco takes in what I've just said. He's looking out at the lake, he eyebrows furrowed a bit, as if he's deciding what to say next. Finally, he looks back at me, his decision made.

"Look, Granger, I want to be a Death Eater," he begins, his face expressionless once more and his eyes hard. But for some reason, I am sure he is lying. "And one day soon, I am going to be one, and nothing you, or even Blaise for that matter, can say is going to change that. That's simply how it is, and you've got to accept that. I'm a Malfoy. I'm not a hero, like bloody Potter. Even if I didn't want to be a Death Eater, which, as I've said, is not the case, I would still become one, because that's what I'm supposed to be. There's nothing you, or anyone, can do about that. And I most certainly will not be talking with you about my problems. As you said, I've got Blaise for that. And just to make things clear, he is _not _the only one I trust; I do get other opinions besides his, so I don't need you for that. And that 'git' is actually me, it's not some cover."

"So why are you so different this year?" I ask before he can continue telling me lies, because I'm sure that's what they are.

"I'm not," he shoots back calmly. "You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not. Hell, even Ron's noticed, and that's saying something, because, quite honestly, Ron doesn't notice much unless it hits him right in the face."

That's not a lie. Ron commented about how quiet Draco's been the other day in the Gryffindor common room. It quite surprised me, to say the least. Harry agreed too, though he thinks that means Draco's up to something.

"Look, I don't care what your ignorant friend thinks of me," Draco says, sounding a bit tired, like he's had enough arguing. "It's none of your business. I'd prefer it if you just let it alone. I'm not going to tell you what happened that night, and I probably never will, so get that out of your head."

"I know you're not going to tell me, and you don't have to," I insist, taking his arm gently and leading him back to the lake. He doesn't object, even as I sit down, pulling him with me. "I've sort of given up on that already. But … for some reason I have a sort of good feeling about you, and somehow I am sure you were lying when you said you want to be a Death Eater. I think you do believe that you're going to become a Death Eater nonetheless, and I think that's extremely sad, and I'd like to do anything I can to help you not become one. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I just want you to know that I'm here for you, if you ever need me."

Draco doesn't reply right away. He sits there silently, looking at the water and not saying anything. He seems to be fighting some sort of inner battle, like he's trying to decide if he wants to talk to me or not. I take a moment to actually be a bit proud of myself for that – that I've managed to get Draco Malfoy to think about opening up to me, a Mudblood.

"I can't make any promises," Draco mutters finally, turning back to me. "For now, I am not going to tell you anything too personal. You have to understand that … well, I don't exactly trust easily. I've known Blaise pretty much all my life; he's helped me through a lot and proven himself to be trustworthy. He's one of only … three people in my life that I can say I really trust. I … er … well, I don't want to sound like I'm feeling sorry for myself, or some shit like that, but I haven't exactly had the easiest life ever, and I've learned the hard way that I can't trust most people. I have to admit, though, I feel more comfortable around you than I do around most people I don't know so well, but that doesn't mean I trust you yet, and I might not ever. For now, I guess we can just try to get to know each other, but – and listen closely to this – we are _not _friends, and we can probably never be friends. You're a Mudblood, and I don't mean it in a mean way, it's just a fact. And I'm a Malfoy. No one would approve, first of all, and secondly, we're practically complete opposites. Most likely, we won't even get along. So, we can just try to get to know each other, and see what happens."

I nod slowly, absorbing everything he's just said. For the most part, he makes perfect sense, and he's probably right that we may never be friends. But at least he isn't pushing me away. He's agreed to try to get to know each other, and, for now, that's good enough for me.

"Ok, that sounds good. Can I ask you a question though?" He nods, motioning for me to continue. "You said Blaise was one of the only three people you really trust. Who are the other two?"

Quite honestly, I don't expect him to answer me. I thought it might be too personal a question to ask, but decided to risk it anyway. So I am quite surprised when he does answer me.

"My mum," he replies quietly, then hesitates before continuing, "and Snape."

"Snape?" I gasp, shocked. "Why Snape?" Draco shrugs carelessly, looking away from me to play with the grass at his feet.

"Most people don't know this, but he's my Godfather, and he's always been there for me," he says simply, twirling a piece of grass between his fingers. "Look … er … this is all really new, and I'd be lying if I said I was comfortable with it. I think I've had just about enough for one night. Besides, I've got to go see Blaise, and it's getting kind of late."

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment. He was actually opening up a bit to me, and he probably realized it too, which is most likely the reason he ended it. With his trust issues, it's quite understandable, but I can't help feeling a bit disappointed anyway.

We get up at head back to the castle, my mind racing with questions.


	7. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Sorry guys, this is not an update – just a VERY important author's note.

I am having troubles with this story. I know what I want to write, but it simply isn't flowing too well for me. Don't worry, I am NOT giving up on this story – I love it way too much for that. I've gotten a Beta, so at the moment, she is reviewing my chapters for grammatical errors and British-ifying it (since I am not British) and such and helping me out a bit with the plot itself. I am not sure how long the review process will take, but I promise that after that, my chapters will be coming along much faster – no more 4 month breaks between chapters!!!

Thanks so much to all my readers who have stuck with this story through all the long waits – I hope these revisions will only help the story, not discourage you from reading it.

Please review – I'd like to know what you think of the story and how it's progressing, and about the news that I am Beta-ing what I've got so far.


	8. AUTHOR'S NOTE 2

Hey! So I've just posted the re-edited version on my first chapter! I've made a new story under my profile called Gazing at a Broken Heart. This one, I've changed to "Gazing at a Broken Heart – Old", so you know the difference. Anyway, the first chapter is up, it's been edited for spelling and grammar, and I've also changed some things. It's not all that obvious, but I think it works better now!

Enjoy!

Oh, and my second chapter should be coming soon!


End file.
